If I discover that I have only one week to live, may it be on the first day of a week-long ice storm because I would feel like I was going to live forever.

There are those among you who regularly question my intelligence. Add me to the list. We left Saint Simons Island just in time to get snowed in and iced in. Why? I am still trying to figure that out. After all, what is there to do on the coast except look at spectacular sunrises, walk on the beach, eat seafood and relax?

In an ice storm we can fall on our tushes trying to clear our driveways of snow and watch monstrous trucks jack-knife on Interstate 75 at the rate of one a second. Try that at the beach.

As you read this, I am recovering from a serious case of cabin fever. We reside on a cul-de-sac in a neighborhood of tall trees. That means we don't have to worry about a lot of traffic up and down our street and we have nice shade to block the summer sun. However, this past week, it meant our road stayed iced up because of no traffic and sun-blocking trees. We may be marooned until July. I am not optimistic.

I have tried to make good use of my time in my splendid isolation. I attempted to get in touch with Al Gore to tell him he was spot-on about global warming. Only 49 of our 50 states have snow on the ground at the moment. The guy is good. Very good.

Thanks to Al's invention of the Internet, I was able to stay in touch with readers. Reader Bill wrote and told me - and I quote - "The Prophet has written: 'Not everything that is known can be said, and not everything that can be said is timely, and not everything that is timely is suited to the capacity of those who hear it.' Dignum et justum est."

I hope Reader Bill isn't reading this, but I have no idea what he is talking about. I sure don't want him to know that, so I wrote him back and thanked him and told him E Pluribus Unum. I hope he will be impressed.

I am pleased to report that The Woman Who Shares My Name and I have coexisted under the same roof for the past week and have not (a) sued for divorce and/or (b) killed each other. Frankly, it is a miracle.

We have few rules in our house but the ones we do have are inviolate. For example, I am responsible for world peace and monitoring the fluctuations of the International Monetary Fund. She is in charge of everything else. She has been good to stay out of my areas of expertise and has suggested I do the same.

It helps that we have a two-story house. Anytime I felt the need to tell her how I believed she could operate the household much more efficiently, I retired to the upper floor until the urge passed. The walking was good for my health, not to mention avoiding a skillet upside the skull.

The icy roads knocked me out of the opportunity to meet with the Democrats in the Cobb legislative delegation. I had sat in with TCT reporter Jon Gillooly earlier in a meeting with members of the Cobb Republican members and had been invited to participate in a similar session with the Democrats. I am grieved to miss the opportunity. There are so few Democrats left in the Legislature that I wanted to see them in person lest, like the Wooly Mammoth, they become extinct.

Also, I wanted to meet Rep. Alisha Thomas Morgan (D-Austell), whose Web page describes her as "a rising star on the national scene." I don't think I have ever met a rising star on the national scene before, although I knew Larry Gatlin pretty well before he became famous - if that counts.

It looks like things are returning to normal. I can see the driveway again. There is sunshine everywhere. The frozen slush is beating a hasty retreat. I have survived a week of hyperkinetic television reporters showing me what ice looks like (Hint: It looks like ice) and watching know-it-all yuppie-boomers trying unsuccessfully to drive on it. I also didn't get whacked upside the head with a skillet. Life is good.

Or as Reader Bill and I always say, Dignum et justum est.

You can reach Dick Yarbrough at yarb2400@bellsouth.net or P.O. Box 725373, Atlanta, Georgia 31139.